A stream of consciousness update.

I really dislike when my arms are cold but my legs are sweating. This usually happens under the covers or when I am wearing a t shirt with sweatpants.

I am going to skip my 12pm class tomorrow. We are discussing a book I didn't read. The last time we discussed a book I didn't read, I pretended to be preoccupied with drinking my Naked juice... for the entire two hours.

My laptop has 39 minutes left before it dies. Maybe there will be an asteroid crash and that is actually my estimated time of death. You never know. I kind of like it that way.

Right now I am craving the smell of the pump room at the pool. It's a musty chemical damp basement kind of smell. I live for it.

Also, as much as I want to go home, by the time I get there for Easter, it won't even look like home. Mom already repainted my bathroom to a fun grey color. Now she's making the kitchen green, Katie's room - cream, and the master bedroom - brown. We currently have fun wallpaper featuring grapes and sports and leaves. I will be sad when they are gone.

Sometimes I wonder if we all think the same. Do you think in complete sentences? I attach memories to places that have nothing to do with them. For example, when I broke up with a current ex a few years ago, it happened in my room. When I remember that, I picture the street by the science wing of my high school. Is that normal? Was I dropped as a child?

I will now tell you about my scars. I have a tiny rectangle scar on my right pointer finger under my nail but above the first joint. It is from when I was at the house of my south african friend with my mormon friend, Elizabeth. For some reason, Elizabeth and I were racing to the volume knob on the stereo below the TV. I got there first and she lashed out by stabbing me with her fingernail. It bled and scabbed.

I have a tiny scar on the underside of my chin. My dad tried to put a helmet on me when I was learning how to ride a bike and he closed a bit of my skin in the helmet clasp thing. I cried. Later, when I was 10 or so, my south african friend taught me how to ride a bike.

Once, when I was 13, my mom ran over my ankle with her SUV. I was in the back seat and she was slowing down to stop. I was overexcited to exit the vehicle so I jumped out when it was still rolling and my left ankle got caught under the tire. Surprisingly, it didn't break or anything. Just a bad sprain. I was on crutches and missed swimming that summer. I remember cold sweating on the ride home and then my mom's friend drove me to the hospital and told me I needed to create a really exciting story like Mike Tyson.

I am going to end this update here because I have to go pee and pack and make sure all my liquids are under 8oz.